


I Dream of Deannie

by Nikolaus_Chaser



Series: I Dream of Deannie [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Genie/Djinn, First Kiss, Genie Dean Winchester, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 15:17:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13320939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikolaus_Chaser/pseuds/Nikolaus_Chaser
Summary: Prompt: You find a genie with an… unconventional way of granting wishes. Instead of the usual “three wishes with these rules, pick whatever you want,” this genie provides you with a would-you-rather scenario - and you have to pick one.━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━“It’s really not that difficult of a question, man,” the strange, attractive man says, cocking his hip and glowering at Castiel.  Castiel lifts an unimpressed eyebrow at the man, then turns his attention back to the lamp he’s been polishing.  “Would you rather have whatever you are thinking appear above your head for everyone to see or have absolutely everything you do live streamed for anyone to see?”





	I Dream of Deannie

“It’s really not that difficult of a question, man,” the strange, attractive man says, cocking his hip and glowering at Castiel.  Castiel lifts an unimpressed eyebrow at the man, then turns his attention back to the lamp he’s been polishing.  “Would you rather have whatever you are thinking to appear above your head for everyone to see or have absolutely everything you do live streamed for anyone to see?”

“I’m sorry, how did you get in here, again?”  Castiel asks without looking up from his work.  He picks up a spray bottle and squirts the dusty lamp with some soapy water, buffing it out until it shines.  “The store is closed.”

The man huffs exasperatedly.  “I told you, dude.  I came out of that lamp over there,” he hooks his thumb in the direction of a lamp on the other side of the shop, where Castiel had been cleaning earlier.  He only recently became the owner of Out of the Attic, a vintage antique store in the center of town he inherited from his older brother when Gabriel up and decided to move to Taiwan with his new girlfriend.  Castiel had never expected to become a business owner; in fact, he’d been quite happy living his life as a freelance writer on his own, but then again who was Castiel to ever let down an opportunity for change?  Maybe this hand-me-down lamp and furniture store would be his next big break.

“Yeah… Listen, sir, we’ll be open again tomorrow morning.  If you’re interested in purchasing a lamp, you can come back at eight o’clock tomorrow morning.  I’ll be here, and I’ll be happy to assist you then.”

The man looks up at the ceiling and lets out a long, drawn-out groan.  Then he sighs and closes his eyes, counting down from ten under his breath, like he’s trying to control himself from doing something violent.  Castiel glances up from his lamp and watches him curiously, then shifts his attention to an ornate crystal piece that needs polishing as well.

“Look, dude, I told you three times already.  I. Am. Not. A. Customer.  My name is Dean and I am here to grant you a wish,” he says emphatically, staring Castiel down waiting for some sort of reaction from the guy.  He doesn’t get one, and Dean huffs out an even more exasperated growl.  “Hey, I’m telling you I’m a genie here!” He crosses his arms at the elbow, slapping his palms against each opposite elbow and bobbing his head up and down, like I Dream of Jeannie.  “And you haven’t even got a thing to say about it?”

Castiel sighs, slapping his spray bottle down on the counter and blinking up at Dean.  “Alright, then, Dean.  Let’s say that I believe you and this… cockimany story of yours, that you’re some genie or something.  What kind of genie wears a plaid shirt and biker boots, then?”

Something like an amused expression plays across Dean’s face, and he gives Castiel a satisfactory nod like he’s impressed by his question or something.

“Fair, fair question.  The answer is me.  Got any more curiosities you need to be settled before we get down to business?” He asks, rubbing his hands together and then cracking his knuckles.  Castiel furrows his brow.

“Well, that just doesn’t make any sense.  If genies can just walk around in regular-people clothes, how can I tell that my next door neighbor maybe isn’t a genie?  Or any random woman or man walking down the street; couldn’t they be genies too?  I always thought genies had to dress differently, so that they could be distinguished and what-not.”

The cocky smile falls away from Dean’s face and he levels Castiel with an annoyed glare.  He shuffles in place, fists clenched, and his tongue clicks against the back of his teeth as he lets out an annoyed sigh.  “Alright, smart guy.  You wanna know something?  I’ve got a birthmark on my left ass cheek that’s shaped like a lamp, and that’s what every genie in my whole family’s got too.  And that’s how my mom knew I was gonna be a genie, just like she was.”  Dean smiles fondly.  “Got my very own lamp first thing when I turned four years old.  Been following it around the world ever since.”

The corner of Castiel’s lips twitch, and he titters softly.  “Is that so?”

“Yes.  I’ve been all over the world, too.  That lamp there is pretty old,” he gestures towards the same lamp he indicated earlier, an ornate glass-blown lamp, with a pinkish hue and a bulbous base.  On top sits a white linen lamp shade, one that’s grown dusty and yellowed with age, but still shows the well-kept quality of a dearly loved lamp.  “First it was my grandma’s, back in Algeria.  But when she died, that lamp there was sold to a traveling salesman from Libya.  And I with it.  That son of a bitch trekked me and my lamp all over the middle east before he finally managed to sell us off to a seamstress in Luxor.  For a pretty penny, too,” Dean grins a toothy smile and proudly announces, “three silver rings.”

“Wow,” Castiel hums.  “Three silver rings?  Impressive,” he picks up his spray bottle again and resumes cleaning another lamp.  Dean frowns and uncrosses his arms, letting his palms slap against his sides.

“Yeah, man!  That was impressive back then,” he says, then scoffs.  “What?  How much are you trying to sell my lamp for?  A hundred bucks?  Hundred and fifty?” He spins around and goes to look at the beautiful glass lamp that’s sitting on the shelf behind him, picking up the price tag that hangs from a piece of tape on the lampshade.  His jaw drops.  “Oh my God!  Twenty dollars?  What am I, chicken scratch?” He spins around, glaring at Castiel.  The man shrugs.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Dean.  People just aren’t willing to pay so much for lamps these days.  No matter how pretty they may be.” He says, and then his cheeks color as if he’s said something embarrassing.  Dean grins.

“You think my lamp’s pretty?” He says softly, like it means a lot to him that Castiel would say something like that.  He stares at Castiel for a hot second, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue and then finally looks away.  “Well, anyway.  I think that’s enough about me, now.  How about you, man?  What’s even your name?”

“Castiel,” He says after a slow pause.  “Castiel Milton.”

Dean grins.  “Well, Castiel Milton, I’d say today is your lucky day.  My name is Dean Winchester and I’m here to make your wishes come true,” he smiles and bites his lips.  “So, what do you say? Would you rather have whatever you are thinking to appear above your head for everyone to see or have absolutely everything you do live streamed for anyone to see?”

Castiel frowns, really confused now.  “That’s, um…,” he trails off, silent for a few long seconds, and then directs Dean with a puzzled look.  “What?”

“I think you heard me.  I’ve said it twice already, I’m not going to say it again.  Now you have to pick, that’s how it works.”

Castiel’s eyebrows furrow.  “But… but how does that even work?  I mean–,” he scoffs, and then laughs a little bit.  “What?  I just spend the rest of my life walking around with a chat bubble over my head and people are just expected to think that’s normal?”

Dean shrugs.  “Or you could have absolutely everything you do live streamed for anyone to see.”

Castiel raises an eyebrow.  “And who would watch that?” He sets his spray bottle down again and walks over to the cash register, hitting some buttons and pulling out the drawer.  He starts counting out the money there, and though it was a slow day, Castiel guesses he made at least a few hundred dollars today.  “I’m not a very interesting person, you know.”

Dean shrugs, a small smile on his face.  “You seem interesting enough.”

Castiel’s eyes flicker up to meet Dean’s, and he finds himself pausing at the fact of how strikingly green Dean’s eyes are.  He has a mop of messy hair on his head that can’t seem to decide whether it’s brown or blond, a hard-lined jaw and a straight nose, and dark freckles that dust his cheeks and nose.  When he smiles it big and white, and Castiel can’t help but smile back at him.

“So what happens when I decide on my wish, then?  You go back in your lamp and sleep for a hundred years or something?”

Dean shrugs.  “I don’t know.  I was thinking I might go get lunch after this, actually,” he stretches, and yawns.  “I’ve been sleepin’ for about twenty, thirty years now.  It gets a little boring after a while.”

Castiel’s brow furrows.  “So you don’t go right back into the lamp, then?” he wonders.  Dean shrugs back at him, and Castiel pauses in counting his money, leaning forward and propping his head in his hands, elbows rested on the table.  “When was the last time someone summoned you out of your lamp, Dean?”

He looks thoughtful for a moment or two before he answers.  “I don’t know, I think it was sometime around the 1960′s.  I remember goin’ to a disco right after,” Dean smiles fondly, “Met a nice girl in this big poodle skirt.  She took me for a spin and we had a good time,” Dean drags his tongue over his bottom lip, eyes dragging up and down Castiel’s body slowly.  Then he smiles, and his cheeks turn red.  “You gonna make a choice, or what, Cas?”

“Well you’ve given me some dumb choices, you know,” Castiel says with a frown.  He resumes counting out his money.  “I don’t think I’d like either of those things, to be honest.  Aren’t genies supposed to let people pick their own wishes?”

Dean rolls his eyes.  “You know, you sure seem to have a lot of assumptions in your head about genies,” he steps closer, resting his own elbows on the counter and smiling sweetly at Castiel.  “Not one of them has been right so far.”

“Well then, just give me a better wish.  Make the stakes better and then I’ll decide.”

Dean blows out his lips like he’s giving somebody a raspberry and he shakes his head.  “Well, what would you have then?  Me give you some shitty, kiddy choices to choose from? Would you rather have cookies or french fries, huh?”

“Cookies,” Castiel answers without missing a beat.  Dean huffs, shaking his head.

“I’m not gonna let you waste your wish on cookies, man.  That’s just plain stupid.” He says, throwing his hands up in exasperation.  Castiel shakes his head.

“I don’t think so.  I have a particular affinity for Oreos, actually,” he smirks a little when Dean scoffs at him.  He grins.  “Well, go on then, Mr. Genie.  Where are my cookies?”

Dean narrows his eyes at Castiel.  “No cookies.  I’ll give you one last chance for a real wish, or else I’ll just go and decide it for you myself.”

“I feel like that’s against the rules.”

“There are no rules!” Dean snaps, crossing his arms.  He looks away, pouting, thinking.  He hums thoughtfully.  “Okay.  Alright.  I got one.  Would you rather have the ability to read other people’s minds or see ten minutes into the future?”

Castiel’s lips wobble like he’s thinking, and he lets out a long, low hum.  He sets down the last of his money from the cash register on the counter, putting the drawer back in while staring thoughtfully down at his hands.  Finally, he sighs and looks up at Dean.

“The future, I think.  I already have a pretty good idea of what people think of me, I think.”

Dean frowns and leans in.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Castiel shrugs.  “Well,” he says softly, not looking up at Dean’s eyes.  “I know I’m not the most interesting person.”

“So you’ve said,” Dean says, “Still don’t believe it, but okay.”

“And I’m sort of… awkward.  I rub people the wrong way.  I have a knack for making people angry,” he sighs, fiddling with the cash on the table.  He can’t seem to bring himself to look up at Dean.  “People don’t like me, naturally.  I’m not a very personable… person.”

Dean frowns.  “You seem pretty likable to me.”

“We’ve only been talking for a while,” Castiel says.  “You hang around long enough and you’ll get fed up with me.”

Dean frowns.  “Well that can’t be true,” and then he crosses his arms again, palms over elbows, and bobs his head twice.  Castiel blinks, feeling dizzy for a second, but then it passes and he’s back to normal.  He frowns at Dean, who uncrosses his arms and nods at him.  “A wish is a wish.  Yours has been granted.”

Castiel blinks.  “How do I use it?” He asks.  Dean shrugs.

“Just think about it and it’s come,” he says.  Castiel looks skeptical, so Dean gestures for him to try.  “Go on, you can do it.  Go on and try!” Dean says excitedly.  Castiel eyes him nervously, but then he closes his eyes and scrunches his eyebrows together, thinking hard.  What he sees makes him gasp sharply, and his eyes pop open, brilliant blue staring at dazzling green in disbelief.

“I don’t… Dean, you don’t…”

“Hey, don’t tell me what you saw!” Dean interrupts him, reaching up and pressing his finger to Castiel’s lips, smashing them together with his finger.  Castiel stares at him, unmoving, and Dean smiles.  “Just because you want the future spoiled for you doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t like to live spontaneously.” He pulls his hand away, stuffing his hands into his pockets and taking a step back.  He smirks.  “You wanna go grab a burger or something?” Dean asks, flashing Castiel a charming smile.  “I’ve been sittin’ in a lamp since 1966, I’m kinda hungry.”

Castiel’s lips twitch a little.  “I bet.”

“You know any good places around here?” He asks.  Castiel nods at Dean and takes the money off the counter, then slips it into a small velvet bag.  He scribbles the total for the day down on a notepad and puts it into the cash register.  Then he smiles up at Dean.

“Yeah, I know a place or two.  Do you like milkshakes?” He asks, coming out from around the counter and letting Dean lead him to the doorway.  Dean steps up, reaching out and taking a chance, he wraps his arm around Castiel’s waist and follows along, by his side, out the door.  Castiel’s cheeks color and he ducks his head, stopping suddenly in the doorway, and awkwardly fumbles in his pocket for the store keys.

“I’ve got to, uh– lock up,” he laughs, blushing, and Dean nods and steps back.  Castiel digs the keys out of his pocket and pulls them out, fumbling to pick out the right one, but before he can manage to find it Dean rushes up to him again and grabs his face, pressing him up against the glass of the door.  He breathes harshly against Castiel’s lips, just a hair’s breadth away, and Castiel’s eyelids flutter closed as he lets his hands come up to rest on Dean’s sides, grabbing at his biceps tightly.  Dean sighs softly against his lips, angling his head to the side a little, so their noses brush as he leans in.  He doesn’t dare to kiss Castiel so fiercely outright, as assertive as he was pushing him up against the doorway, and he touches Castiel’s lips with only the tiniest, warmest sips.  Until Castiel surges forward and claims Dean’s mouth with his own, mouth wide and teeth knocking against Dean’s own, tongue pushing into his mouth gracelessly, and even as good as it feels, Dean can’t help but pull away with a happy chuckle and a quiet huff.

“Eager, huh?”

“I saw that,” he rushes out.  “I had a vision of it.  I couldn’t believe… Dean…,” he blushes, pulling away, and Dean chuckles to himself.

“Don’t get around much, do you, Cas?” He asks softly, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Castiel’s waist.  He leans in, kissing him again with practiced ease, and Castiel melts into it, lips curling into a sated smile against Dean’s lips.  He pulls away with a dazed grin and blinks up at the bonafide, absolute Adonis of a genie standing in front of him.

“How about those burgers now, huh?  My treat.”

Dean grins like a little kid.  “Hey, now you’re talking.  Think we can have milkshakes and make out for dessert, after?”

Castiel laughs and blushes, nodding.  “I think that can be arranged.”

**Author's Note:**

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